Time Is Ticking
by TearoToHero
Summary: The BAU, along with the newest agent on the team, Aislin Duffy, find themselves investigating the disappearance and deaths of a group of children following a series of strange letters. With an MO constantly evolving, will the team be able to accurately profile and apprehend the unsub?
1. Chapter 1

Heavy footsteps thumped across the cool linoleum flooring, punctuated by panicked breaths. A child curled up beneath one of the many lockers, arms wrapped tightly around his legs as though making himself smaller would erase all chances that he might be seen. The lights above were flickering violently, providing short bursts of vision for the stranger storming the school corridors. At nine at night, there was nobody else around to see the fear in the child's eyes as he was approached by the darkly clad man.

"It's time," he growled in a low, husky voice which made the hair on the child's neck stand on end. The ill-lit corridor only revealed the slightest details; sleek, dark hair made all the more prominent in comparison to pallid skin; an old leather coat far too short for long, lithe arms; and the unmistakable shine of a blade jutting out of his belt. "You knew it would come eventually. He told you. We told you. Time has come."

The child whimpered, peering up with watery blue eyes that spoke volumes of the fear preventing him from moving an inch. "I'm sorry. I'm s-s-sorry. I didn't mean to, really. Please, sir. Please, please, please."

A booming laugh bounced off the walls, followed by the distinctive thump of a body hitting the floor.

"He never even stood a chance."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, kid? C'mere a sec." Aislin Duffy smirked the second Spencer Reid entered the bullpen. As a new addition to the team, the young woman's peculiar ways still garnered the occasional odd look, but they were slowly getting used to having her around. She jumped up, instead of waiting for Reid to come to her, and bounded over. Standing at a little less than five feet tall, the sight of her beside the lanky young man still brought a few chuckles from the others, but she was used to it by now.

Reid adjusted the messenger bag over his shoulder, glancing down at his smaller coworker. "What is it?" he asked curiously, throwing a small smile over at JJ as she left Hotch's office.

Duffy brushed a hand through slightly tousled coppery locks, a phenomenal yawn escaping her. "You owe me one," she chirruped, scuffing a black pump across the floor. "A favour I can call up anytime, any place."

From across the room, Morgan wolf-whistled, eliciting a mildly irritated scoff from Duffy and a confused look from Reid. The rest of the team was beginning to arrive, most gripping coffee and discussing the weekend's events in hushed tones. One obvious exception was the brightly coloured Garcia, who tottered over to Morgan in a pair of artfully orange heels to match the quirky dress she wore. "Good morning, sunshine," he purred, adding a sly wink.

"I'll show you a good morning, baby boy," she retorted easily. "Got anything for me yet?"

Before Morgan could answer, Hotch emerged from his office, glancing down into the bullpen with the usual stern look on his face. "Not yet." Dark eyebrows furrowed a little as his attention focused itself on Prentiss, who was busy juggling scalding coffee and a few folders. Noting this, he began to descend the stairs with the intention of helping, but Duffy beat him to it. On more than one occasion his attempts to speak with the other agent had been thwarted by the newest member of his team and he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it yet. Though they had all agreed not to profile each other, he couldn't help but think that the woman's determination to be helpful in all instances was her way of trying to make up for something. Aside from himself, Duffy was often the one to remain in the BAU longest when they weren't out working a case.

"Hey, Prentiss. Prentiss," Duffy cooed, lowering her voice a little. "Somebody's watching you." Green eyes alight with a strange glee, she shifted Prentiss' files under her right arm easily. "I deduce that the unsub is a tall, dark stranger with a desire to find a strong woman and maintain those glorious eyebrows."

"Glorious?" Prentiss arched a shapely brow. "Really, that's what you think? Sounds like somebody else has been watching closely, huh."

"Profiler's rights," Duffy declared, propping thin hands on her hips. "If I don't notice these things, who else will?"

Morgan pushed past the two women, presumably on his way to check with JJ what cases she might have for them. "Nobody. I think that's the point. You don't analyse a man's eyebrows, that's just weird."

"Hush now, plucker." Duffy rolled her eyes and set Prentiss' things down on her desk before wandering away. Though the sleek trousers she wore were nothing less than professional, the oddly yellow shirt and array of rusty curls gave Duffy an almost elfin, other worldly appearance. Truth be told, several members of the group had considered talking to her about the way she presented herself, particularly when they were off investigating. Though Garcia's attire was certainly more eccentric, she seemed to pull it off far better than the tiny SSA.

Turning to Prentiss, Morgan asked, "Plucker? What did she mean by that?"

From across the room, Reid called, "I believe she was referring to the fact that your eyebrows are so carefully maintained it would be an impossibility that they're natural. Of course, she was wrong about the plucking. They're waxed, monthly."

"How do you-"

Before he could ask the question, Prentiss batted Morgan with one hand, suppressing a laugh at the look on his face. "Do you really want to know?"

"Conference room." Hotch's deep, authoritative voice broke the carefree atmosphere in an innocent, each of the agents trudging through the door JJ had moments before. Taking their seats and glancing towards the screen, they began to wonder what kind of a killer they would be trying to figure out this time.

JJ stood to the right of the screen, waiting for a moment before she announced to her teammates, "Ivor, Virginia. Three boys ages seven to thirteen dead in the last month. Cause of death is officially blunt trauma to the head, but each of the bodies has been severely damaged post-mortem." As she spoke, images came to life on the screen, showing the team the victims. When it came to the bodies, several mouths curled downwards in distaste. They had seen worse, but each of the blue-ish corpses covered in meticulous slashes and punctures invoked discomfort and disgust.

Of all the faces in the room, Hotch's was by far the most animated at that moment. Prentiss glanced across, slightly concerned as she knew he had been missing his son a lot recently. Instead of saying anything, he simply nodded and waited for the team to discuss preliminary ideas.


End file.
